Through Another Light
by Anna Bastos
Summary: Minerva is busy trying to follow her agenda and avoid Snape's portrait inquiries.


**Notes:** Story written for the Minerva Fest, in celebration of Minerva McGonagall's birthday. Many thanks to my beta, S.

Harry Potter_belongs to J.K. Rowling and her legal licensees._

**Through Another Light**

A tall, thin woman watched as the professor left her office. She looked down at the many pieces of paper on her table and couldn't keep a resounding sigh from being let out. That man had said he already had a replacement for himself; however, it would be even more tiresome if that new teacher turned out inappropriate for his role.

It was not that Minerva had problems with being frank; in fact, she was quite proud of that trait in her personality. The trouble would be the precious time she would lose testing the recommended person only to ultimately have to open new selections later. Hogwarts couldn't afford letting just anyone near the children; it had to be the best. That had been her motto since she took over as the school's headmistress so many years before.

Despite still having some time left before the school year was finished, she had to hurry and find someone so it wouldn't delay her agenda.

"Depressed, Minerva?" That voice had come back to haunt her.

"I prefer to work in peace, thank you, Professor Snape".

It was only his portrait. It used to bother her in the beginning that so many goners gossiped right in front of her as if still alive. In truth, not all of the headmasters had their tea; some would just keep sleeping, like Albus Dumbledore, and most would only engage in any conversation with her from time to time. After the initial shock, she even felt a bit left out when she noticed they'd stop chatting among themselves when she entered room early in the morning. With time, she got used to all of it, except for the newcomer.

Snape's portrait hadn't been there when she took over her current position; it had only been after a request from Harry Potter that her predecessor be hung on that wall. Unlike Dumbledore - or any other portrait for that matter - he didn't sleep in her presence; instead, he watched her carrying out her duties, often making nasty comments that she tried her best to ignore.

He was the one headmaster from whom she didn't want to hear a word. Nevertheless, it was not like he would willingly grant any of her wishes.

"It must be hard to hear that someone is retiring because his own student is now a coworker," he sneered, not hiding his sarcasm.

"It is indeed a stupid reason, in my opinion," she decided to answer honestly.

"Especially when you yourself used to be his teacher. By the way, is there anyone in Hogwarts who wasn't your student? Excluding the departed, of course. Oh, wait, that includes myself."

Being called old didn't offend her, but Minerva still grunted in annoyance.

"I wonder why you hate me with such intensity you can't even laugh at my joke, Minerva."

"As a matter of fact, I don't hate you," Minerva said softly. Despite the fact that not holding any bad feelings against Snape was the strict truth, she knew that answer had been a lie.

* * *

"Going on a trip?"

Minerva pretended not to hear the thin, black-haired, hooked nosed man in his frame, and resumed her duties.

"And I expected a cake today."

She kept her silence again, except this time her eyes betrayed her by fleeting quickly to the _Daily Prophet_ on her table. May 2nd, it read.

"So, now have you remembered?" insisted the former headmaster with a crooked smile.

"I hadn't forgotten, but you should celebrate the day you were born or hung, and not the death anniversary of another."

Snape pouted a little, without undoing his smile. In his eyes, however, a darker shadow flickered. Minerva left her office, carrying a small trunk with some regret. Was that really some important date for the portrait? Still, her schedule had to be followed without any postponements.

* * *

Minerva walked into the Great Hall, faltering a little as she peeked at the professors' table. Severus Snape was the new Potions teacher, one of the most important subjects in the curriculum. She was aware that he had asked for another position, but still, he was so young... Dumbledore was right; he was brilliant, indeed.

More than that, there was a new atmosphere surrounding him. He was no longer the bullies' easy target; moreover, it was almost as if he had built a wall to keep the world away from him. It was probably due to the fact that now he was no longer some measly student - or maybe that he was into something Dark. Whatever the reason, though, Minerva couldn't stop staring.

Both professors followed Dumbledore as soon as the children were sent to their houses. Minerva just watched as Dumbledore congratulated Snape for his new job, wishing him the best.

"It's always a pleasure to hear from our alumni," she added, sipping her tea. She was still trying hard to keep her eyes from straying, and it was even more difficult under the Headmaster's observing eyes.

"Good that you mentioned that, Minerva." Dumbledore skimmed through the papers on the desk that both professors would come to use someday. "Here it is. An owl has just delivered me the good news!"

His hand, marked by the decades, stretched to show the two a smiling couple with an infant; the woman was holding the baby's hand and making it wave.

"The Potters?" Minerva asked, unconsciously staring at Snape. "They were in Severus' year, right?"

The Headmaster grinned as he handed the photo to Snape. "Harry was born some days ago."

"Yes...I had heard that Lily was pregnant." Snape stared, dumbfounded, at the family.

"You used to be quite close to her, did you not? Why don't you go visit Harry?" Dumbledore asked keenly.

"Perhaps…"

Minerva thought she had understood that exchange of words on the photograph then; however, it took Snape's own death for her to become aware of the Headmaster's true intention so long before. He was only preparing the new Potions master for when he would be needed as his spy. Besides, Dumbledore had all the luck with him when Lily died a little more than a year later, leaving her son, a living piece of the person Severus Snape most loved, unprotected.

Even though Minerva's feelings were already growing bit by bit since Snape's return as a teacher, they overflowed when she saw his body in lying eternal sleep.

* * *

Pomona sat in her new chair after the entrance ceremony, followed by the Sorting Hat performance. It was always an amazing spectacle. She had been feeling comfortable with all the changes in her life until that moment. Minerva had always been a good friend of hers; for that reason, the invitation to be her successor as the Headmistress of Hogwarts was no surprise.

She glanced at all of the portraits on the wall next to her, admiring each of her predecessors.

"Huge shoes to fill," she said with a sigh as she relaxed on her chair.

It was not an unfamiliar job, for she filled in for Minerva several times during her years, especially during the previous one. Minerva had insisted on setting everything up for her departure, and even had to find a new teacher in the midst of all the boring procedures. Pomona wished she could have helped her friend, but she herself also had to prepare Neville Longbottom to be her successor as the main Herbology teacher, in addition to all of the preparations for the next Head of Hufflepuff. These were busy days.

"You, again? Why would she miss the entrance ceremony?" Snape's portrait was just as charming as the original.

"Are you talking about Minerva? Poor things, she never told you all goodbye?" Pomona asked the portraits.

Luckily, the others in the frames were all soon asleep, because Snape's shocked expression was heartbreaking enough for the former Herbology master.

* * *

Snape could never talk to his ex-colleague and teacher. He still watched for a few years the comings and goings inside the Headmaster's office, but not with the same enthusiasm. With time, he came to understand why most of the former heads of the school spent their afterlives asleep. Even if Pomona was not as talented as her direct predecessor, she would spend months without bothering any of them. Furthermore, Snape was the youngster who hadn't physically stayed in charge of that office for more than a year, making him even less experienced than Pomona.

"Won't there be a portrait for Minerva?" he decided to ask one day.

"Don't go killing my friend just yet, Severus," Pomona replied, laughing lightly.

At least he knew she was still alive.

* * *

He didn't dream anymore, but still had visions to fill his days in eternity. At times, Snape swore at Harry Potter for condemning him to that hell. There was no need for another portrait on that wall. Because of that, he would see the boy enter the office at night – his messed hair and green, very green eyes shining in the dark. He knew he was not actually there, but he decided to start talking to him. Lily would also appear during those chats. Even James Potter and Dumbledore.

Of course, Snape knew he had gone mad. And he still did not care. There was nothing else to do. He slept during most of the days and received those imaginary visits as soon as Pomona left the office.

The years passed too fast.

Even Potter's son would appear there from time to time. Not in his nightly visions; it was really his son. Harry Potter had had three children, but Snape really did not care. Not even about the one with the green eyes. Time apart from the world really made things seem tiny and insignificant.

However, he would still ask the Headmistress about Minerva.

* * *

When he opened his eyes, something was different. Despite the fact that he couldn't see a thing in front of him, the space surrounding his frame felt abnormal.

"I'm not sure if this was a good idea, Pomona. Particularly if people start missing it."

That voice… Snape couldn't remember about the previous night. It was one of those days he would just let be wasted. Perhaps, he had done that all week or month.

"I just thought you would like the company until I can join you, Minerva. I know I promised this year would be the one, but making a successor is always so hard for me…"

"I know how that can be."

The first thing Snape saw was Pomona's eyes and her absent-minded smile.

"Oh, you're awake! Well, I have to go now, if you'll excuse me."

Minerva was on a bed by the fireplace, staring back at him.

"What happened to you?"

"The years, Severus. They are hard on every being, some more than others."

"And isn't this-"

"St. Mungo's, yes. You see, Pomona promised to leave Hogwarts so she could keep me company, but instead she stole a painting. Go figure."

He decided not to pronounce how offended he was to be treated like an object. Instead he just contemplated the scenery. They were certainly in some very special room in the hospital, for it looked almost like a family house. Still it had all those objects only a hospital would.

And they spent the rest of the days in near silence.

Minerva had an aid with her most of the times. During the day, Snape's portrait would be covered by that same aid so her visits wouldn't see him. Any explanations for the object's presence would indeed sound odd, so he silently agreed to the ex-Headmistress' logic. However, not many came but Pomona, who would not stay for more than the afternoon tea before returning to her post.

Even so, Snape liked observing the lady in her sleep and chatting with her as soon as she woke up, even though they didn't have much to say; both heard the same news from the same sources.

And a question would always hang in the air.

"I don't think it will take much longer." Minerva's hair was very thin as she said that one morning. Again, the old lady had woken up before him.

"What will? The weather?"

It had been one hot summer; the autumn started giving its signs through the window. But Minerva chuckled at his answer.

"It would be nice if we really talked sometimes, instead of making me interrupt your inner dialogue, Minerva."

"Then answer me, how do you think he will receive me in the afterlife?"

"Who will?"

"Severus Snape. The real thing."

That hurt him too much for an answer.

"That is how I imagined it," nevertheless, she continued. "Severus Snape never thought of meeting me again, right?"

"I don't know what you mean." He blinked a few times.

"It was because I asked Pomona the same question that she brought me his portrait. But it just made me want to know it more so I'll be prepared."

That was when Minerva told him how much she was in love with Severus Snape, "the real thing." Also about how she hated Dumbledore for using "him," and would always think about the day "he" had come back to Hogwarts, and how Dumbledore had intentionally made "him" suffer by showing the Potter family's photograph.

What made her the angriest was the fact that she had been there, only trying not to admire the newcomer and never doing anything to stop. All that time Dumbledore was using Snape as his spy, Minerva decided to be a bystander, only thinking of how her feelings couldn't win against "his" for Lily Evans.

"While I only saw the scenario as a competition, Severus slowly died from the inside and still tried to protect what was most precious to him even after her death," Minerva concluded, letting out a sigh.

"I had no idea you felt that way about me- him," he forced himself to use the correct pronoun.

The rest of the days were even more silent than usual. There were nights when the aid would forget to take his cover, but he wouldn't remind her either. Those days had a bitter feeling lingering.

But it was during daylight that he wished he could see his surroundings. Minerva would shout sometimes in pain; other times, she'd hold in the screams. The potions were probably very strong. Deep inside, Snape was afraid everything would change again while his eyes could not see. So, he stopped sleeping during the day while he could still keep his eyes open to check on her.

He was terrified. And it was not of simply being alone again, as it felt when Minerva left her duties. Snape was not good with loss. He could substitute his longing for Lily with her own son. But what about Minerva? There was nothing that represented her; she would depart without leaving a trace behind.

He really loved her company. It was strange; now that he was so conscious of not being the same Severus Snape, he also felt like his feelings had changed. "And do portraits even have feelings?" Minerva would ask him sarcastically.

As much as there were such anxious days, there were also those when the witch sounded healthy and talkative. He would listen to all of her conversations with her former students and laugh at the news that came in. He really loved the cheerfulness of her tone in those days and the peace in her sleeping face during the next night. He would even let himself fall asleep after so many days of insomnia and terrible visions.

They also started talking again, but about trivial things such as the latest Quidditch match, or the news from the previous edition of the _Daily Prophet_. Minerva even started reading the most interesting ones out loud.

"I think you've started to hate me less," Snape commented out of the blue one day.

"I've never hated you."

"Not even the portrait me?"

"I've said it before: what I hate is how I was a weakling, and your face will always remind me of that."

"It's good to know you don't hate me, Minerva. But you could always put it in more pleasant ways," Snape replied.

"Such as?"

"Taking off my cover when that girl forgets to do it. I get desperate when I don't know what is happening".

"You will know when I am gone, Severus. But I shall remind her of the task from now on if that makes you happy."

The days went on, and their conversations were kept to more neutral topics.

"Sometimes it feels like we have been friends for a long time," Snape said one day, as the aid closed the door.

"Why do you say that?" Minerva was drinking her tea, covered in blankets and reading that day's edition of the _Daily Prophet_.

"It just feels so, even though I'm just a portrait."

"We are very old friends, I think. And I'm not counting my time with Severus."

His heart, if a portrait had one, felt fulfilled.

* * *

This routine persisted for years, but Snape still couldn't sleep regularly. Pomona had failed her promise to share the room with her friend and perished two seasons after moving the portrait in. It was a real shock, even for him. He started sleeping even less, although he would often need a long night of sleep later, which he'd take after one of those good days.

But when he opened his eyes, an office stared back at him. The move had finally been found out by Pomona's successor, who had taken very long to notice the missing portrait and made no real effort to locate it.

Every one was asleep in their portraits; he couldn't see their faces. Not even Pomona's, who should have been near him. He waited until dawn.

"I think she's waking up..." A voice coming from the left gave him a startle.

Wasn't the office empty?

"Pomona?"

"Look, she is waking up. Minerva's portrait! This is so exciting, I just wish she could be by my side..."

Snape looked to his right and a sleepy face he had gotten so used to gave out a familiar yawn.

"Welcome, dear," Pomona greeted her.

"Severus, Pomona..." Minerva's voice sounded confused.

"I heard the news yesterday, and at the same moment your portrait appeared here. And then Severus arrived too... I had to tell him as soon as I heard of your passing away about the portrait's whereabouts, you know. So it wouldn't end up lost in one of the Ministry's rooms."

"You acted well, Pomona." Minerva McGonagall was still herself, even as a two-dimensional painting.

Pomona giggled and then said she was tired from days of waiting for her friend to wake up.

It was just the two of them again. Snape smiled.

"Did I say anything odd, Severus?"

"Welcome to the afterlife, my precious Minerva."

She blushed.

"Very funny, Professor. Not quite the afterlife I was expecting, but thank you."

"And not the Severus you imagined, right?"

"Just as good." She looked away, seeming to notice her new surroundings.

But her blush gave her away and made Severus smile even more.

"I just mean you are a dear person to me," the newcomer said.

"It's strange how I feared the day you would be gone, but now I see this as a blessing."

"Pardon?"

"I mean that I love you. And I suspect that now it is more than certain that you will love me."

Minerva tried to stay silent, but an uncharacteristic giggle escaped her lips.

"Don't be so conceited," she finally answered as nonchalantly as she could.

"I was just measuring the competition, but it is always nice to hear a answer that gives me hope. You would usually just reject me right away."

"And now you are pushing your luck, Severus."

"I'm very lucky to have such a lady by my side, indeed."

She blushed again, and then smiled shyly at him. All of a sudden, eternity didn't seem like a conviction to Snape. Harry Potter had given him a real gift.

The End

* * *

**Author Notes:**

_Wow... This took long and then it suddenly did get long! I didn't think it would have more than two thousand words. Luckily, it didn't get too long. I know the middle did seem a little bit too much, but I needed the right time to kill Minerva!_

_I wonder if I'll cut too much during review... This fic turned out a bit different from what I first thought. Anyway, I like the warmth the end lets out. I like stories like that, that makes you let out a discreet smile. Of course, I prefer crying, but well, I feel too unhappy whenever I make people cry!_

_In the end, it seems I liked narrating from Snape's POV better, now that I think about it. But it isn't that! I just needed to express his despair and he had a lot more than Minerva, at least a lot more I could reveal right from the start, lol._

_But really, don't those portraits ever get bored? Or depressed that they are not themselves anymore? I decided not to think too much, because I got depressed when I started feeling portrait!Snape's feelings._

_And this is it. The end! Yay! I started thinking I would only write this from Japan, so I'm glad I'm still at home. I actually should be writing my essay for uni!_

_Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this. Many thanks to you who had the patience to stand all my nonsense. And to Vane who had to stand all my depression periods during the confection of this piece. Sorry! I'm an emo, probably. And to my beta, SiriusMarauder, who was so lovely correcting this. And to... everyone! Yay!_

_It's done! Done, done, done! _

_Okay, it still needs a title... But it's almost there, I can already celebrate. Hyde, I love you!_


End file.
